


Spring Awakening One-Shots

by reversustenebris



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Deity Au, Fluff, If necessary, Light Angst, M/M, Modern Era, Pirate AU, and update ratings and such, i guess?, i'll add tags as i add stories, monster au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-05 23:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15873561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reversustenebris/pseuds/reversustenebris
Summary: A collection of one-shots based on Spring Awakening!I'll add more as soon as I write them and I'll update tags and ratings to match!Chapter One: Soulmate AU (Hernitz)Chapter Two: "I'm lost and so are you. Now what?" (Hernitz)Chapter Three: Deity AU (Hernst)Chapter Four: Pirate AU (Hernst)Chapter Five: Monster AU (Hernitz, Wendilse)Chapter Six: Theater AU (Ernitz)Chapter Seven: Hanschen's Car (Hernst)





	1. Soulmate AU (Hernitz)

**Author's Note:**

> Spoken word is in "."
> 
> Signed lines are in '.'

Though they didn’t know the implications of them yet, they all loved the little marks that appeared on their skin. 

The drawings appeared first, when they were all only four years old. Hanschen and Moritz would wake up and have strange yet meaningful scribbles decorating their arms. Wobbly stick figures and flowers of all sorts of colors stretched across their skin. Hanschen often got in trouble in class for never listening, choosing to sit and gently trace the lines on his skin instead. Moritz was almost scared of them at first, but after getting the soulmate talk from his family, he would try to add on to the drawings after they showed.

Then came the reminders. Hanschen and Ernst would feel little touches on their hands as they came home from school, little lists that said things like ‘Walk dog’ or ‘Wash dishes’. They were always written in a shaky script, and they started so early the spelling was often a little bit off. Ernst found them endearing, and sometimes they helped him out too. Hanschen would always tug at his sleeves to try and pull them over his hands, as the other kids in his class would snicker at his supposed forgetfulness for what they considered easy tasks. Whenever they would leer, Hanschen would wonder if his soulmate was doing okay.

Finally, the little notes would appear. They started out simple, a small “Hi” or “How are you?” written on the wrist turned into full encouraging speeches written down Ernst and Moritz’s forearm. Cheesy poems and little story ideas. Ernst would draw little doodles around the words, and Moritz could often be caught checking his wrists on a stressful day and running his fingers over the words.

When the three of them were twelve, they learned that there were, well, three of them. Hanschen wrote a little “Having a good day? Yes or No” on his wrist and a blue circle wound its way around the ‘Yes’ at the same time a wobbly red circle went around the ‘No’. Time was frozen for the three of them for a minute, before the red ink started to fade as Moritz washed it away to enthusiastically circle the ‘Yes’.

\--------

Hanschen didn’t know their names, but he already loved his soulmates. He noticed that the artist and the listmaker were definitely different people, and he began to categorize them as such. He loved to watch the skill of the artist improve over the years, and even though they drew on their arm less, what they did draw was always fascinating. Abstract flashes of colors and detailed sketches done in pen. For his other soulmate, the lists became more complicated, and Hanschen could tell how much they did for their family. Groceries and errands and picking up siblings. He loved their dedication.

The people around Hanschen, however, weren’t as fond of them. Despite the soulmate process being random, some people still held a lot of stigma around same sex soulmates, started from before the time soulmates were even around. His parents were some of these people, and every time a new line appeared on his arm, he always felt a worry deep inside of him that his parents wouldn’t like whoever was on the other side. Having two soulmates made it even worse. 

Ernst loved his soulmates too. He followed the ever increasing lists that would appear on the back of his hand, his soulmates hurried words helping to remind him to get up and move in between drawings. And the poet, of course. As they all got older, the poems became more realized and intricate, and they inspired Ernst like nothing else did. Ernst did almost all of his art projects based on what appeared on his arm, and he loved his soulmate for it. 

Moritz needed his soulmates. They got him through the day, and God, did he need something to do that. He would be taking yet another test or picking up yet another sibling or making a yet another run to the grocery store and he would just tap his fingers along the colors lining his arm or whisper the poetry on his hand to himself. It became his common habit, and it was uncommon to see him without one sleeve rolled up and one hand touching whatever was on his arm that day. 

\---------

By the time they’re all seniors in high school, none of them know the names of the other two. It’s customary to not give names out, and even though Hanschen thinks that’s stupid, he chooses to go along with it. 

‘Ready for that Latin test today, Moritz?’ Melchior, Moritz’s neighbor, asks as he joins him on the walk to school. Moritz isn’t quite sure why Melchior bothers with him anymore. Melchior doesn’t have a soulmate as far as anyone can tell, and most of the time he spends with Moritz is spent complaining about the fact that Moritz has two. As patient as Moritz is, it’s kind of getting on his nerves.

‘Shit,’ Moritz signs, swinging his backpack around one shoulder to dig through the front pocket for a pen, “That’s today?”

‘That’s today,’ Melchior affirms with a small nod. 

‘That’s just excellent,’ Moritz signs weakly, scratching down a small “Study Latin @ lunch: 54-63” onto his wrist between the drawings of pumpkins and spiders his soulmate drew in honor of the beginning of the Halloween season. He gives a small smile as he sees them, and Melchior scoffs.

\----------

‘No way,’ Ernst signs slowly during art class that morning.

‘What is it?’ Ilse questions, leaning over the table to see where Ernst is staring. 

Ernst taps at the writing on his arm. ‘I have a test over the same material today.’

Ilse’s face lights up and she grabs him by the shoulders and lightly shakes him in excitement before letting go to sign, ‘They’re probably here!’

‘That would be too lucky,’ Ernst starts, already pushing down hope, ‘Besides, what about the other one? It would feel weird without them.’

Ilse shrugs, ‘Don’t let it stop you.’

\---------

Hanschen misses his cue in his music for the third time today, and he’s shocked out of his daydreaming by Georg slamming his hands down on the piano. 

“What the fuck is up with you today, Rilow?” Georg asks, flipping his sheet music back to the beginning. “You gotta get back on it, dude. We’re performing this soon.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m fine,” Hanschen says, making a show of shaking his head as if to reset his thoughts. “Just a little spacey today.”

Georg scoffs. “A little. No, seriously,” He says as he spins around on the bench, “What’s up?”

“Well, I got a note from my soulmate today.”

“Not unusual.”

“No, not unusual. But it’s a note about studying for a Latin test, and it’s over the exact same stuff I have a test on today. Just trying to keep my hopes from getting too high, I guess.”

“Why not hope, though? It’s all fate anyways.”

“Guess you’re right,” Hanschen says flippantly, taking a deep breath and settling as Georg starts the piece over again. 

\---------

Hanschen steps into Latin and is surprised to find all the desks rearranged, moved from their neat little rows into groups of four scattered around the room.

“In an act of complete brilliance,” His teacher begins, placing a hand against her chest, “I’ve decided to make today a group assignment. Besides,” She motions towards a group of kids standing near her, “It’ll help out the new kids. Pick a seat!”

Hanschen chooses a seat near where his old seat used to be, and a few of the new kids come and sit down with him. People seem to move in and out of Latin on a regular basis, and he figures it wouldn’t be worth it to get to know anyone new, because they’ll probably be gone by next week.

His plan is ruined, however, when one of the new kids taps on his desk to get his attention. He slides him a note in shaky, almost familiar handwriting that reads, “What did she say?”

Looking up at him in confusion, Hanschen tilts his head and motions towards his mouth. The new kid signs ‘Deaf.’ Hanschen nods and responds with a careful, ‘I know ASL.’ The kid’s face lights up as Hanschen relays the teacher’s opening words.

‘I’m Moritz,’ he signs, ‘M-O-R-I-T-Z.’

‘Hanschen,’ Hanschen replies, giving the sign name his sisters gave him before spelling out, ‘H-A-N-S-C-H-E-N.’

The other new kid who sat down along with them notices the movement of their hands and looks up at them. ‘You know ASL?’ he signs, before shaking his head and signing, ‘I’m Ernst. E-R-N-S-T.’ They all share quick smiles before they are interrupted with the teacher tossing the tests between the three of them.

For having being forced to switch classes, Moritz and Ernst both seem to know their Latin well enough, and with Hanschen’s help, they get through the test fairly quickly. They hand the tests in and start the wait. Hanschen pulls out a book and gets lost in the words before feeling the familiar press of one of his soulmates writing on his arm. 

He looks down to see small doodles of roses, which isn’t very uncommon. What is a lot more uncommon though, is that all three of them at the table are looking down at their arms. Moritz is running a hand over his, and Ernst is carefully moving a pen against his own. Hanschen taps on the center of the table to get their attention, and the lines stop appearing as soon as Ernst looks up. 

Hanschen flounders on what to say for a few moments before choosing to roll down his sleeve completely before holding up his arm instead. Ernst and Moritz both look down at their arms before rolling up their own sleeves and holding their arms out across the table. 

Three identical roses rest on each wrist, tangled within the spiderwebs of that morning and Moritz’s Latin note. Ernst pulls his hands up to cover his mouth while Hanschen just signs ‘Oh my God.’ Moritz thinks he might cry.

\---------

Melchior steps out of his house the next Monday to see Moritz walking by with two other kids. He’s in the middle, squished between a short blonde and a tall brunet. 

“What the fuck,” he starts as he begins walking across the yard to get to them. The blonde one turns around at that and raises an eyebrow at him, and he realizes that this kid isn’t deaf, “Who are you?”

“Who are you?” The kid repeats, making a point to look disinterested as he looks Melchior over. His response makes Moritz and the other stranger turn around to face him.

‘Hi, Melchior.’ Moritz signs, shuffling to get a little bit closer to the other two. 

‘Hi, Moritz. Who are they?’ Melchior says, stepping closer.

‘My soulmates!’ Moritz signs, more enthusiasm in his movements than usual. 

After seeing him talk to Moritz alright, Hanschen gives Melchior a curt nod while Ernst gives him a wave. Hanschen introduces them both.

Melchior mentally skips through their introductions before asking, “So you’ll be walking with Moritz now?”

“Yup.” Hanschen says simply, and even though he’s a lot smaller than Melchior, he makes a mental note not to bother him.

“Great.” Melchior says, turning away.

\---------

On her way through the art hallway Tuesday morning, Ilse sees Ernst leading two kids around the hallway, pointing out his different works on the walls. She starts to head over to ask about them, but she sees Ernst lean over to press a kiss to the forehead of the shorter brunet, who then passes it on to the even shorter blonde, and she pretty much gets the message.

She taps Ernst on the shoulder and simply signs, ‘Soulmates?’ with a tilt of her head.

Ernst gives her a smile that could rival the sun and throws his arms around both of the other kids. He lets them go for just a second to introduce them before hugging them both again.

‘You are being good to him, right?’ She signs jokingly, and both Hanschen and Moritz crack a smile at that too. 

‘I hope so.’ Hanschen signs as Moritz nods sagely in agreement. 

\---------

The intricate sound of the piano stops abruptly as Georg turns around on the bench to marvel at Hanschen. 

“You’ve never sang that sweeter,” he says, ‘What’d you do this time?”

“Well,” Hanschen begins, but is interrupted by the doors of the auditorium creaking open, revealing two silhouettes against the light of the hallway. They start making their way down the aisles of the seats towards the stage, and Georg moves to get up from the piano.

“Hey, you guys can’t be in here right now. Come back la-”

“Shut up, Zirschnitz.” Hanschen mumbles as he makes his way down to the front of the stage, meeting the two figures. ‘Look who’s tall now,’ he signs with a smile as he leans down to kiss both of them.

“Rilow!” Georg shrieks, “What the fuck! You met them and didn’t tell me!”

“Were you going to ask uncomfortable questions if I did tell you?”

“Oh, absolutely. I’m gonna do that now, actually.” Georg stands up and walks over next to Hanschen, “Is he as good in bed as everyone thinks he would be?”

Hanschen elbows Georg with a look, “They’re deaf, dumbass.”

“Oh,” Georg peers down and looks them over, earning a confused expression from Ernst and a nervous look from Moritz, “They are kinda cute. Lucky you, Rilow.”

“I can and will kill you, Zirschnitz.”

\----------

Moritz wakes up to soft touches on his arm and an empty bed around him. He sits up and rubs his eyes before looking down at his wrist. He sees neat handwriting, definitely Hanschen’s, that says, “Good morning!” above two daily schedules, one for Moritz and one for Ernst. What he is feeling now is definitely Ernst, who is drawing sunflowers around the writing.

He gets up and walks into the kitchen to see Ernst at the table, the bowl of cereal in front of him abandoned for the pen he’s holding to his arm. Hanschen is standing at the counter, three mugs of coffee in front of him. He turns around and smiles.

‘Work today?’ He signs and Moritz just nods in response. Hanschen taps his fingers on the table and signs, ‘Class soon, right?” at Ernst, who peeks at the clock before hurriedly slamming the pen down and getting up from the table. 

‘What would we do without you?’ Moritz signs, sidling up next to Hanschen at the counter and grabbing a mug. He can tell it’s his because he’s the only one who drinks black coffee, and his small smile grows as he thinks about how Hanschen always remembers how they like their coffee. 

‘You two would be fine. What would I do without you?’ Hanschen signs, putting lots of emphasis on the second “you” before kissing Moritz on the cheek. 

‘Die, I guess.’ Moritz replies with a laugh.

‘Probably.’ Hanschen signs with a laugh of his own as Ernst rushes back into the kitchen, hair still messy from sleep but at least he’s dressed. Ernst comes over and gives them both kisses as Moritz attempts to smooth his hair down.

‘Not going to work.’ Ernst signs with exasperation as he makes his way out the door, blowing them one last kiss before the door shuts behind him.

Hanschen looks at the untouched mug on the counter before pouring it into one of their to-go cups. ‘Think I can still catch him?’

‘I hope so. For his sake.’


	2. Lost (Hernitz)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanschen definitely wasn't lost in this stupid corn maze. Absolutely not.
> 
> Well, at least he isn't the only one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always:
> 
> Spoken word is in "."
> 
> Signed lines are in '.'

Hanschen was really not enjoying this whole corn maze experience.

The whole drama department thought it would be fun to go on a little adventure a few miles from the school, and who was he to say no. Well, it wouldn’t be surprising for him to say no, but he’s trying to change that reputation a little bit. Even if that means coming on drama field trips. 

However, now that he’s been here for over an hour, he can definitely say he should have refused to come like always. It’s way too cold for October, and the rain from yesterday left the ground muddy and difficult to walk over. And, here’s the real kicker: He’s lost. If he were to run into a classmate right now, he definitely wouldn’t admit it, but he knows it’s the truth. 

He wandered into the corn maze around thirty minutes ago, trying to get away from where Melchior was threatening to stab Georg with those dinky plastic carving tools they were given to carve pumpkins. He just wasn’t in the mood for that today. Or ever. But, honestly, that would be preferable to his current state, wandering around indiscernible pathways through the maze as he stops every few feet to shake the mud off of his boots. 

Finally, he comes across a clearing. There’s a large, gnarled tree growing right in the middle, with pumpkins piled at the base and tipped over logs arranged in a wobbly circle around it to act as benches. On the log closest to the bench sits a boy who looks to be around Hanschen’s age, and he’s hunched over his knees, rubbing at his eyes. He looks up as Hanschen moves closer, and he’s pretty cute, if not for the redness overtaking his face as he cries.

“Shit,” Hanschen says, coming over to him, “Are you okay?” 

The boy looks up at him and signs, ‘Deaf.’, and Hanschen has never been happier that the drama department did The Miracle Worker his freshman year. He decided to keep learning ASL afterwards, and it’s definitely going to help him out now. 

Hanschen nods before repeating, ‘Are you okay?’

‘No,’ The other boy signs after getting over what looked like the initial shock of learning that Hanschen knows ASL, ‘I’m lost.’ 

‘So am I,’ Hanschen replies with a laugh, sitting down on the log across from the stranger. ‘I’m Hanschen.’ He signs, fingerspelling his name.

‘No sign name?’

‘No.’

‘I will have to fix that. I’m Moritz.’ The other boy, Moritz now, signs, fingerspelling his name before showing the motions of his sign name to Hanschen, who repeats it back to him. 

They are interrupted when another boy makes his way into the clearing, and he looks startled to see the two sitting there. He thinks for a moment before pulling a notebook out of the bag he has slung over his shoulder, and he quickly writes something before making his way over to them. He hands the notebook to Hanschen, who squints to read “Do you guys know the way out?” in between all the doodles covering the page.

‘Are you deaf?’ Hanschen chooses to sign instead.

The newcomer’s face lights up. ‘Yes.’ He puts his notebook away. He looks away before signing a small, ‘I’m Ernst. I’m lost.’

‘Join the club. I’m Hanschen and that’s Moritz.’ Hanschen replies as Moritz’s shoulders hunch up and tears start to prick at the corners of his eyes.

‘I’m going to die here.’ Moritz signs, covering his face. 

Ernst starts to fret at the tears running down Moritz’s face and he starts to dig through his bag as he makes his way to sit next to him. He gently moves Moritz’s hands away from his face with one hand as he pulls a tiny pumpkin out of his bag with the other, placing it into Moritz’s hands.

Hanschen, who had started to still at Moritz’s crying, bursts into laughter. Ernst gives him a look. ‘It would make me feel better.’ He signs defensively with emphasis on “me”. Sure enough, Moritz stops crying, hands curling around the pumpkin.

‘Thank you.’ Moritz starts, ‘I’m not even sure why I’m crying.’

‘It’s okay.’ Hanschen signs, standing up and holding out his hands to the both of them, ‘Let’s find our way out.’

\---------

Ilse watches as Hanschen steps his way out of the corn maze, both of his hands taken by two boys standing on either side of him. The taller one is looking down at Hanschen and the other boy like they are the best things he’s ever seen, and the shorter boy is cradling a tiny pumpkin protectively against his chest with his free hand as he returns the look.

All three boys lose the tension in their shoulders as they see that they made it out of the maze, and Ilse can’t help but laugh. 

“Get lost, Hanschen?” She calls out, drawing only his attention.

“No!” He yells back, looking away briefly, “They did, though.”

“What a hero you are, Rilow.”

“I did a good thing!” Hanschen says, before a small smile creeps across his face, “It all worked out anyways.” He says, lifting both of his taken hands as to emphasize his point. He makes his way over to her, both boys trailing along. 

“Ilse, meet Moritz and Ernst.” He says, letting go of their hands to introduce Ilse to them.

“Gee, Hanschen,” Ilse starts as she waves hello to the both of them, “How come you get two boyfriends?”

An uncharacteristic blush spreads across his face as he says, “Not my boyfriends! Yet.”

“Yet?” Ilse replies with a snort.

A look of determination overcomes Hanschen as he takes a step forward and turns around to face Ernst and Moritz. ‘Want to go on a date?’ He signs.

‘Yes!’ Ernst signs enthusiastically as Moritz adds, ‘Both of us?’

‘Of course both of you.’

‘Hold on,’ Ernst signs before pulling out a Sharpie and yet another tiny pumpkin from his bag. He takes the pumpkin out of Moritz’s hands and quickly writes something on it before writing the same thing on the second pumpkin, which he then tosses to Hanschen.

‘Oh my God,’ Hanschen signs, looking down at the phone number written on the pumpkin, before breaking out into laughter again.

As much as he tells Ilse otherwise, Hanschen may have possibly enjoyed the whole corn maze experience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Kudos/Comments are always appreciated, and were definitely the reason I wrote this so soon.
> 
> Send me stuff at charleynewell on tumblr!


	3. Deity AU (Hernst)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ernst is the God of the Harvest and Hanschen is, unfortunately, about five minutes away from being sacrificed to him.

Rocks stab at Hanschen’s knees as he shifts from his position, moving forward closer to the edge of the building to have one final look at the city. He could see everything, the small cluster of towering buildings that made up the center and the sprawling farms that spread across the land around it as far as he could see. It was more beautiful than he remembered it being.

The acolyte holding an ornate dagger to Hanschen’s throat moves it away for a brief moment to shove him back towards the hastily thrown together altar on the roof. Their “fearless leader”, the high priest, gives Hanschen a disdainful look as he’s thrown against the ground.

“What the fuck, man,” Hanschen snaps, panic in his voice betraying the cold look he was trying to hold on his face, ‘What do you think you’re doing?”

The high priest looks past him over the expanse of their land. “The harvest failed us again this year. The sacrifices of old are no longer working to appease the God of the Harvest. This must be done.”

“Must it be?” Hanschen says mockingly, “I’m not even a criminal or anything, you can’t do this to me, seriously!” rambles Hanschen as they push him closer to the center of the roof. He can feel the heat of the candles circling the front of his knees, and he closes his eyes after watching the acolyte pass the dagger to the high priest.

He can sense the movement of the man in front of him before he can feel the cold press of the dagger to his throat, and tears start to well up in his eyes. 

“I’m very sorry,” says the priest, pressing the dagger closer. Hanschen gasps out in pain before the dagger suddenly stops it’s movement, and he can feel the heat around him vanish as the candles are all put out at once.

“Are you?” Speaks a soft voice Hanschen doesn’t recognize, and he feels the presence of the priest disappear. 

Hanschen peeks one eye open to see someone new. He’s holding the priest by the throat a few inches above the ground, and it looks like he’s barely trying. The stranger doesn’t even look that strong, his figure tall and lanky instead, but that isn’t Hanschen’s main concern as he listens in on the hissed conversation transpiring between the two.

“I’ve told you, very specifically, that I would refuse human sacrifices. And yet, you refuse to listen. You always refuse to listen!” The newcomer starts to rant, letting go of the priests throat and letting him drop to the ground. “What makes you think this would work? I mean, the only reason the harvest died once again is because you pulled this kind of stunt last year!” 

“I am so sorry-”

“No, you aren’t! Stop with that! I’m sick of it!” The apparent God of the Harvest says before letting out a long sigh, “Leave this place. Now. For good. And I mean all of it. If you take one step into the fields of these good people again, your body will become fertilizer.”

The priest nods hastily before scrambling up to his feet, grabbing the hoods of the other acolytes and dragging them away and down the staircase. The God of the Harvest comes and kneels across from Hanschen, who is staring at him with wide eyes.

“I am so very sorry. What is your name, stranger?” He asks, gently dragging a finger across the shallow cut on Hanschen’s throat. Hanschen can feel a strange pulse as the cut closes, and he chokes on his words for a moment.

“I’m Hanschen, mister, uh, God of the Har-”

The God laughs. “I hate that title.”

“Oh,” Hanschen mumbles with a nervous laugh of his own, “Do you… prefer something else?”

“I guess I do. A name that used to be popular a long time ago in these lands. Ernst.”

“Ernst,” Hanschen repeats. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” Ernst says as he stands up, grabbing Hanschen’s hand and helping him up. He gives Hanschen a small smile before closing his eyes, and the scattered leaves that had collected on the roof pick up in a new wind and surround him before he vanishes.

\---------

That afternoon, as Hanschen makes his way down the winding staircase of the building he was abandoned on, the sky opens up and it begins to pour like it never has before.

The rain continues through the next week, and by the end of the unusual weather, the crops begin to grow back on their own. Hanschen’s included. He spends his time gathering the corn from his small field before bundling it up, starting the journey back to the center of the city. He heard that the market season kicked back up after the good weather returned the crops, and he could use the money.

Halfway down the road, he sees that a new farm has settled there, and he turns off the path to go investigate. He’s always made a habit of greeting his new neighbors, and after the kindness he was shown by the God of the Harvest, he’s definitely not going to make an exception. 

Besides, it’s an orchard, and there aren’t as many of those around as there used to be. He studies the trees as he walks, and unless he’s forgotten his fruits, they look like peach trees. Between the main road and the house is a gigantic oak tree, which looks like it’s been growing there for hundreds of years, though the house at the end of the path looks brand new.

“Strange,” Hanschen says to himself as he reaches it, placing one hand on it’s trunk, “Looks like it’s been here longer than me.”

“Strange indeed,” A familiar voice says from above, and Hanschen looks up to see Ernst tucked up in the branches, back against the trunk of the oak.

“Oh, of course,” Hanschen starts, moving to get down on his knees in honor.

“Please don’t do that,” Ernst says, carefully making his way down to the ground, “It weirds me out.”

Hanschen stands up and brushes off his knees, “Me too,” He pauses to think. “What are you… doing here?”

“Good question. All the other gods live up in their fancy little realms and have their fancy little politics and I just got sick of it, y’know? I wanted to live with the land, live with you all.” Ernst picks up a basket full of peaches left below the tree and offers one to Hanschen, who takes it. “Too many people.”

“I get it.”

“Glad someone does,” Ernst says with a smile, and he starts walking towards the small house at the end of the orchard, looking over his shoulder briefly to make sure Hanschen is coming.

\----------

Hanschen visits Ernst every other day. He stops by the orchard on every trek he takes into the city, though he doesn’t stop by on the way back, considering he usually travels late at night. Which, of course, gets him into the mental debate on whether or not gods sleep, and then it’s all he can think about.

“Do you ever sleep?” He asks a few weeks after the first time he visited the orchard. He’s standing at Ernst’s counter, cutting peaches into neat slices as Ernst organizes the slices into a strangely complicated system that Hanschen isn’t quite capable of understanding.

“No. Well, I can, but I don’t see the point.”

“It feels good, though. Doesn’t it feel nice to not have responsibilities for a while?”

 

“I’m sure it does, but we definitely have different levels of responsibilities. If you sleep, you might forget to take out the trash, but if I sleep, I might forget to, say, provide you all with rain for a week.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

 

They settle back into a comfortable silence, the only sounds being the soft thud of the knife hitting the cutting board and Ernst’s quiet humming. Hanschen’s visits move to a daily schedule, though, and he spends a lot of nights asleep at Ernst’s instead of in his own bed, who works around him quietly.

\-----------

The city is slowly but surely changing without the order given by the high priest. Sure, he was a dick, but at least he gave the impression of authority. Almost every day, a new hopeful makes their way to the top of church, the highest point in the city, to pray for the role of being the new high priest. They never hear from the higher power they were seeking.

“Why don’t you answer?” Hanschen asks one day, trailing behind Ernst in the orchard as they pick peaches.

“Don’t like any of ‘em. Too rich, too “high and mighty”, too selfish.” Ernst says and Hanschen can feel he’s speaking from experience.

“How can you tell what they’re like? You see them for five minutes, tops.”

 

“They think I can see them for only five minutes,” Ernst mumbles, emphasis on “think”. He pauses for a few minutes as the two continue in their easy rhythm of picking the peaches and tossing them into their baskets. “Someday, someone I actually like will make the journey.”

\---------

Hanschen is pretty sure he got the hint. He hopes he got it, anyways, because there’s a lot of stairs and a lot of haughty acolytes between him and the top of the church.

Most people attempt this with lots of preparation. They have their servants carry sacrifice after sacrifice up the winding steps behind them. A season of crops, livestock of all kinds, ornate jewelry and precious metals Hanschen couldn’t even hope to afford. Hanschen only has two things: Himself, and a small basket of peaches.

The milling patrons of the church pay him no mind as he makes his way to the staircase, though the acolyte at the foot of the stairs gives him a scoff as he looks him over. Hanschen just gives him a short nod in response before beginning the long climb to the top. He reaches the roof, his chest burning and his legs aching, and he steps forward into the altar in the center. 

He kneels and places the basket of peaches directly in front of his knees before pulling a small box of matches out of his pocket and lighting the candles of the altar. He settles back into comfort, and chooses to just wait. He knows some of the hopeful will chant, or grovel, or even sing. He also knows that Ernst finds that ridiculous.

It’s silent for what feels like hours before Hanschen gets that prickly feeling that he’s being watched. Not long after that, the wind picks up around him, and like what happened months ago, the candles in front of him go out all at once. He looks up from where he watched them flicker out to see Ernst standing in front of him, a pleased smile on his face.

“Hanschen.”

“Your holiness.” Hanschen says with a smirk.

“You know I hate that,” Ernst says, stepping over to him and offering a hand to help him up. Hanschen takes it, and he picks up the basket of peaches along with him, holding it out to Ernst.

“Your sacrifice, O’ Great One.”

“I’m starting to regret this.”

“Please take the peaches, Ernst.”

Ernst laughs and grabs the basket from Hanschen’s hands before letting out an exaggerated sigh and saying flippantly, “I guess I’ll let you be the high priest.”

“You guess?” 

“Yeah, I guess so,” Ernst mumbles, words dying out as he seems to get lost in thought. He comes back to reality and leans forward to kiss Hanschen, who returns it immediately.

Hanschen pulls away about an inch after a while. “This feels blasphemous.”

Ernst pulls away completely as he laughs harder than Hanschen’s ever seen him.

\---------

Hanschen taking over the role of the high priest goes surprisingly well. He gets into the swing of things quickly, with Ernst’s help of course, and the city begins to prosper. Unlike the high priests of the past, Hanschen doesn’t have to go to extreme lengths to ask anything of Ernst. In fact, all he has to do is find wherever he is in their house and ask him in person. 

It’s an easy system, and once again, unlike the priests of the past, Hanschen keeps the role his entire life. He dies quietly in his sleep, and he gets one step into the void of purgatory before he is yanked back into the world of the living, someone new but someone very old at the same time.

He grows up in this new body with a sense of longing, and by the time he’s in his early twenties, he’s completely gotten his memory back. As soon as he does, he packs his things and abandons his home without a second thought. He walks for days, barely stopping along the way, until he comes upon a small orchard. 

Hanschen steps once through the rusted gates, and he hears rustling and sees a flash of movement before he is smothered in kisses.

“Hansi!” Ernst says between kisses, “I knew you’d come back!”

“As if you didn’t have something to do with it,” Hanschen replies.

“True,” Ernst chirps, grabbing his hand and dragging him back to the house, already done with waiting. 

\--------

The city grows around them, and the farms that surround it expand to far reaches due to the superb weather. But the small peach orchard stays right where it is, never getting any bigger but never dying out. Every century, someone leaves, and then comes home soon after, immediately getting appointed to be the high priest. The God of the Harvest would have it no other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Kudos/Comments are always always always appreciated!
> 
> Send me stuff at charleynewell on tumblr!


	4. Pirate AU (Hernst)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ernst is a stowaway on Hanschen's ship.
> 
> What it says on the tin, y'know?

Ernst was cold and wet and miserable but at least it was better than what he had before. Unlike the shadowy corners of the docks, he’s at least protected from the rain here. Wherever here was.

He knew he was on a ship of some kind, obviously, but he didn’t really think too hard about it when he dashed behind the backs of the sailors to climb aboard, hiding himself below deck. He didn’t care who the captain was or where they were going or even if he got caught at this point. It was better than scavenging for food and doing odd jobs for the rude sailors that came in and out of the port.

He manages to hide out for longer than he expected to. A few days, he figures, since he can’t see a whole lot of the sun from down where he was hidden. He’s gently prying open a crate that he knows holds food when he hears the creak of a board behind him, and he turns around to see a wide-eyed sailor. The sailor fumbles for his cutlass, not looking thrilled about the prospect of having to use it, and Ernst raises his hands up in surrender.

“Please don’t,” he whispers, and the sailor immediately shows mercy, putting his cutlass away as he steps towards him.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?”

“I’m Ernst. I’m… I’m not really sure. I just had to get out. I couldn’t take it anymore.” Ernst says, starting to ramble near the end.

The sailor hushes him gently. “Take what?”

“It.” Is all Ernst says.

He gets a nod from the sailor, who seems to understand completely. He holds out a hand to Ernst, who, figuring he has no other option, takes it. The sailor leads him up the steps and across the deck, sneaking around the other sailors milling around, who don’t notice the pair.

“Why are we sneaking?” Ernst whispers to him.

“They aren’t mean, but they sure are annoying. You don’t want all their questions,” The sailor mumbles in return before they reach a door at the bow of the ship. He does an intricate knock and a voice on the other side of the door calls out, “Come in!”

The sailor opens the door and pulls Ernst in after him before shutting it quickly. He smiles sheepishly at the other person in the room, dressed ornately and very obviously the captain, and makes a weak gesture towards Ernst.

The captain leans forward across his desk and tilts his head in curiosity. “Who’s this, Moritz?”

“Found him below deck,” Moritz says before his voice grows quiet, “Same thing as me.”

An understanding look crosses the captains face as he motions for Moritz to leave. Moritz gives Ernst a small wave before ducking out the door. “So, how long you been here?” The captain says, leaving a pause as he waits for Ernst’s name.

“Ernst. Uh, a few days, I think.”

“Aren’t you hungry, Ernst?”

“That’s all you have to ask me?”

“Yup,” the captain says, before standing up and reaching over the desk, extending his hand. As Ernst takes it, he says “I’m Hanschen. Would you like to join our crew?”

\--------

Ernst accepted almost immediately, and he spends the next week learning both the literal and figurative ropes. The other crew members are nice enough most of the time, but he still likes Moritz and Hanschen the most. Ilse is certainly sweet, but a little wild. Otto certainly knows what he’s doing, but he spaces out a lot, and it honestly freaks Ernst out a bit. Georg is so unpredictable that Ernst doesn’t know how to deal with him. Ernst finds the ship’s tiny confinement cell, which surprisingly contains a prisoner, and he’s so annoying that Ernst wanted to tear his ears off after spending five minutes with him.

“What’s with the prisoner?” Ernst asks Moritz one day as they eat.

“Melchior? He tried to start a mutiny that nobody wanted.”

“Hanschen kicked his ass,” Ilse adds from across the table and Moritz nods in agreement.

“It was honestly hilarious,” Georg says, earning more noises of agreement from the rest of the table.

“What are you gonna do with him?” Ernst asks.

“Not sure. Hanschen offered to drop him off at the port we were just at, as long as he never showed his face around us again, but he refused. Said something about a noble death, or whatever. Guess that’s where we’re going now.”

Ernst hums in acknowledgement before going back to his food. Sounds like too much for him.

\---------

After around two weeks of being on board, Ernst finds himself spending a lot of his free time in the captain’s quarters. Hanschen is better company than playing cards with the rest of the crew, and even though he could try talking to Moritz, he seems to prefer silence most of the time. Ernst can respect that, so at the end of the day, he knocks their little unique knock and makes his way to see Hanschen.

They talk about all sorts of things, deliberately avoiding Ernst’s backstory, choosing to talk about Hanschen’s past adventures and future plans. Ernst learns they’re headed to a deserted island Hanschen heard about far in the center of the ocean. It’s definitely survivable, and has enough resources to make a living there or make a boat to sail your way off. They plan to drop Melchior off there.

“Doesn’t he want a ‘hero’s death’?” Ernst asks after Hanschen tells him the plan, the both of them absently flipping through maps sprawled across Hanschen’s desk.

“I’m not gonna just kill him. If he’s as smart as he says he is, he’ll find his way off the island.” Hanschen replies with a shrug.

“Fair enough,” Ernst says before pausing, “You seem like a nice guy, Hanschen.” 

“Nicest pirate around,” Hanschen says with a cheesy smile.

\----------

A few days later, they’re definitely getting close to the island. Large, jutting rocks are appearing in their path more frequently, and the water is changing in hue as it gets shallower. Hanschen sits everyone down one day and passes out wax molded into earplugs, explaining the precautionary measures they have in place in case they come across sirens on the rocks.

“They try to sing to lull you first,” Hanschen says, motioning to the earplugs, “Once they see that it won’t work, they’ll try to disguise themselves as something you greatly desire. Remember that whatever you see isn’t real. If it’s off the ship, it’s dangerous. Keep an eye out for your other crewmates, and if they seem to be getting swayed, do whatever you can to snap them out of it. Got it?”

“Got it.” Everyone echoes in return before scattering back to their various places around the ship.

Sure enough, the next day, they all hear the notes of a song begin as they pass through a particularly large collection of rock. Hanschen briefly lets go of the wheel to pop his earplugs in, motioning for Ernst, his new navigator, to do the same. The sounds of the sea are muffled soon afterwards, and Ernst finds himself deliberately lost in his maps until he sees unusual movement out of the corner of his eye.

He looks up to see Hanschen moving towards the edge of the boat. Unlike the rest of the crew, he was forced to keep his eyes on the water, and it looks like one of the sirens snagged him. Ernst scrambles up, putting his map down in a rush before hurrying over to Hanschen. He wraps his arms around him and starts tugging him backwards, but he decides to take a look at the siren out of curiosity, and suddenly he’s frozen in place at what he sees. 

Ernst sees his own eyes staring back at him, a glorified but still uncannily similar copy of himself sitting on the nearest rock. Hanschen starts to pull his way out of Ernst’s grasp and he snaps back to reality, deciding this was a problem to address later as he finally overpowers Hanschen and pulls him to the deck, covering his eyes.

Otto takes control of the wheel, and fixing his eyes on a point on the horizon, guides the ship back into open waters. Ernst takes his hands away from Hanschen and collapses next to him on the deck.

\----------

It’s all Ernst can think about. Both what he saw in the siren and what Hanschen said about them beforehand. He tries asking Moritz, but he only receives a pointed look and an exasperated sigh in return. He decides the next best option would be going straight to Hanschen.

He rushes through the knock before opening the door, speaking as he walks inside. “Hanschen, can we talk about the… siren thing? I’m definitely not mad, just confu-”

Ernst is cut off as he’s simultaneously kissed and pushed back against the door, shutting it behind him. He reciprocates immediately, because he can’t say he hasn’t been wanting this, and they get lost in it for a few minutes before Hanschen pulls away breathlessly.

“This is not how I wanted you to find out.”

“Well it worked, didn’t it?” Ernst says, leaning back in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per usual, thanks for reading!
> 
> Kudos/Comments are super appreciated!
> 
> Send me prompts or any general ideas at charleynewell on tumblr or feel free to ask for them in the comments!


	5. Monster AU (Multi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moritz wakes up after he was supposed to die, and everything gets a little bit creepy from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since some of the monster types aren't really named, here they are!
> 
> Moritz - Vampire  
> Hanschen, Thea, Melitta - Werewolf  
> Ernst - Mermaid  
> Ilse - Siren  
> Otto - Selkie  
> Wendla - Ghost  
> Anna - Fae  
> Georg - Mothman. Just... mothman.

Moritz jerked awake and looked around through blurry eyes. He wasn’t quite sure of where he was or how he got there, but he knows the events leading up to now weren’t pretty. 

First, he failed. Well, he didn’t fail, but that didn’t seem to matter to his teachers. He knows they didn’t like him, but he never expected them to lie about his grades. Not like he can do anything about it. The administration hates him too. The only person who ever took him seriously was Melchior, though maybe Ernst Robel on a good day, but now, Melchior would finally realize that Moritz is as dumb as everyone says he is and leave him. 

Second, his father yelled at him. A side-effect of the failing. It’s not like he could tell him he stole a peek at his grades, because that would only make it worse. So he has to just accept that his father also hates him, though now it’s for ruining his status in town.

Finally, Frau Gabor refused to send him money to get away. He understands, really, he does, but it’s all he needed. Now, he has to stay here, forever branded as a failure.

Well, he doesn’t really have to stay here. There’s another alternative. If he wants that, he’s going to have to get up.

Get up from where, though? After he read Frau Gabor’s letter, he ran out of the house, wandering the edge of the woods with blurry eyes as he considered what he was going to do from there. He remembers walking until his feet were sore and cold from the snow. He remembers rustling in the woods next to him. He remembers pain and then a numb feeling and then darkness.

He rubs his eyes and looks around. He’s leaned up against a tree, sitting in the snow, somewhere in the small valley between the hills of the town and the vineyard that borders it. He stumbles to his feet, bracing himself against the tree as he steadies his feet in the unstable snow. 

Once he’s up, he starts stretching out, and when he rolls his head to get the stiffness out of his neck, he feels a sharp pain on the side of his neck. He brings his hand up to touch at it, and when he moves it back, it’s red. Dark red flakes of dried blood cover his fingers, and he gasps as he touches at his neck again. He feels two small wounds under his fingers. 

Deciding it’s worth going home if it means getting medical supplies, he starts the long walk back. He doesn’t notice that, despite the freezing wind and light flakes of snow that are drifting down, he never feels cold.

\---------

When he gets home, he does the usual, and lifts his window open and climbs inside, landing on his bed. Surprisingly, after all that walking, his feet aren’t what hurt. For an unexplainable reason, his mouth and hands hurt instead. Oh, and his neck still hurts, though the bleeding stopped a long time ago.

He’s wet from the snow and sore and tired beyond physical feeling, and he figures now is as good of a time as any. He rolls out of bed and kneels beside the trunk at the end, opening it and digging to the bottom until his hand feels cold metal.

The gun feels wrong in his hand after he pulls it out, and he can’t bring himself to truly look at it. He slips it in his pocket and grabs a scarf as he slips back out the window.

\---------

Ilse wasn’t supposed to find him, but she’s gone now anyways. Everybody is gone now. It’s just him and the heavy feeling of the gun in his hand and in his heart and now against his temple. His hand shakes and he is aware that he pulled the trigger and he feels everything and then nothing.

\---------

Moritz anticipated a lot of things happening after he killed himself. He imagined the show of mourning, everyone grieving over someone they never bothered to care about when he was alive. He imagined how his family would get over him, how Melchior would replace him, how his teachers would make a statement at the beginning of the day before forgetting him entirely.

What he didn’t imagine was waking up.

It’s dark and stuffy and he can’t move, but he feels impossibly alive. He lays in the darkness for what has to be days. He hears the sound of voices above him once, but they’re gone within an hour, and everything is so sore he can’t begin to talk. Eventually, he regains some strength, and he shoves upwards.

There’s a loud cracking of wood and he’s smothered in dirt, and he shoves it off of himself before sitting up. It’s dark outside too, but the moonlight lets him see a hunched over figure around ten feet away from him. 

He clambers up and brushes the dirt off of him as he steps forward, and he realizes it’s Melchior, who is crying over another headstone. 

“Melchi?” Moritz rasps, reaching out a hand.

Melchior turns around and scrambles to his feet, eyes widening. “Moritz?” He gasps, taking a few steps back, “No! No, no, no! You’re dead! This can’t be- I have to get out of here!” Melchior ends his sentence in a yell before stumbling backwards and kicking into a run, sprinting out the gates of the graveyard with a clang as Moritz is left standing alone. 

\---------

Moritz wanders the town for days. The night after climbing out of his own grave, he starts to change. 

The pain in his mouth grows until it’s practically unbearable, and he’s hunched over in a small alley between two shops when his canine teeth fall out and long, sharp fangs take their place. He feels a tugging at the beds of his fingernails and those, too, are replaced, this time with pointed, dark claws that are stronger than the nails before them. 

He feels unnaturally alert and awake and it keeps him up and moving before the urge to do even more overtakes him and he learns he’s more athletic than he’s ever been, able to climb up buildings and trees without feeling worn out at the end. 

The day after, as the sun gets near the horizon and the wind gets colder, he’s walking in the small valley between the town and the vineyard. He gets to the top of the hill when he hears voices, and he crouches behind a fence post when they get louder before cutting off. 

He peeks around the fence to see Hanschen Rilow and Ernst Robel caught in an embrace. Hanschen eventually pulls away and stands up, holding his hand out to Ernst, who takes it, standing up alongside him with a smile. Moritz has a smile of his own. Those two have been head over heels for each other since they all were kids. 

Moritz is lost in his thoughts and he doesn’t notice the soft chatter of the two die out until he feels the presence of someone in front of him. He looks up to see Hanschen and Ernst standing over him, Hanschen with an uncharacteristic look of shock and Ernst overcome with emotion.

“M-Moritz?” Ernst whispers, tears already welling up.

Moritz stands up on shaky legs and gives a weak smile in return, and he moves to talk, but he’s cut off when Ernst smothers him in a hug, Hanschen placing a hesitant hand on his shoulder.

\---------

They have a talk. A long one. It lasts for hours, and the moon is high in the sky by the time they make their way under the fence and through the valley. 

“What am I going to do?” Moritz asks after a while of walking in silence. It’s a very open question, and it takes a while for anyone to answer.

“Martha might be able to help. With the vampire thing,” Hanschen starts, breaking his unusual spell of silence. It’s the first time any of them have used that word to describe Moritz’s problem, and his breath hitches when he hears it.  
“Why do you say that?”

“She seems to know more about the supernatural than anyone.”

“Better than what I’ve got now.”

\---------

When they get to Martha’s house, they realize her room is on the second story, and Moritz climbs his way up the wall to knock on her window.

She pulls it open and gives him a look. Without saying anything, she reaches a hand out and gently touches the tip of one of his fangs, “Now this is quite a problem, huh?”

“You could say that,” Hanschen says from the ground.

Martha leans over to look around Moritz, “Oh. Rilow is here.” She says in a deadpan voice before looking next to him and cracking a smile, “Hello, Ernst!”

“Hello, Martha!” Ernst chirps, earning a small pout from Hanschen.

“Can we, perhaps, work on this right now instead?” Moritz says, and he motions at his mouth. In doing so, he loses his grip and slips backwards, and he lets out a quiet shriek and covers his face as he falls towards the ground. In yet another surprising turn of events, he never lands, and he slowly opens his eyes to see the ground a few inches from his face. He rights himself and realizes he’s always a few inches away from the ground, never touching but never going too high.

“Well, that’s just something else,” Martha says from the window.

\---------

Martha tries all sorts of strange things. Crystals they aren’t sure how she acquired and plants they doesn’t recognize and whispered spells in a language they don’t know. Yet Moritz stays the same.

“What was your plan? You know, before you…” Martha lets her words die out. They all know what she was going to say.

“Fleeing to America,” Moritz answers quickly to cover the quiet.

“Right. I suggest you do that.” 

“How?” 

“I’m not sure. You’ll figure it out,” Martha says with a smile, ruffling Moritz’s hair. 

“Right. Right. Okay. Just… get to America!” Moritz says, getting lost into a nervous ramble. He stands up quickly and makes his way back to the window, and he has one leg out when Ernst pipes up behind up.

“Hey, ‘Ritzie?”

Moritz turns around and pulls his leg back inside, “Yeah?”

Ernst puts a hand on Hanschen’s. “Can we come, too?”

“Of course!” Moritz says without hesitation before looking up at Martha and tilting his head in question.

“Fine,” Martha says, “Better than here.”

“Anything is.”

\---------

By that night, when it was time to leave town, they had amassed quite a group. Moritz, Ernst, Hanschen, Martha, Otto, Georg, Thea, Melitta, Anna, and even Ilse all quietly snuck out of their respective homes and places of refuge in the night, and met up at the vineyard to leave. 

They walked for days on end, sleeping in the safest and warmest places they could find on the side of the road. Once they discovered Moritz’s newfound strength, he would take turns carrying each kid to give them a chance to rest when they had no place to stay. 

Finally, they heard the quiet crashing of waves, and tears of joy filled their eyes as they saw boat after boat bobbing in the water ahead of them. Again operating in the night, they found a boat headed towards America and snuck on board, hiding as far below the deck as possible. It turns out the boat they chose was almost completely empty, with only the captain and a small crew aboard it as it made its way back to America. 

“We aren’t going to be able to stay hidden forever,” Hanschen whispers to the group as they are sat in a circle on the damp wood of the ship’s underbelly.

“Do you know how to sail, Rilow?” Georg mumbles in return.

“No,” Hanschen replies at the same time Otto says, “I do.”

Multiple voices from the circle call out, “Of course you do.”

\--------

A thump and a cry wake Ernst the next day. He thinks he’s the only one who heard it, as the other kids are still sleeping, curled up with one another and leaning against barrels and crates. He quietly gets to his feet, and follows the sound of sniffling he hears from the other side of the room, where the ladder comes down from the decks above.

Ernst lets out a gasp as his eyes adjust to the light. He sees Moritz, kneeled over one of the crew, who is most definitely dead. The crew member’s upper half is covered in blood, stemming from his neck and pooling around him. Moritz has tears running down his face and blood around his mouth and all over his hands.

“Moritz,” Ernst starts, and Moritz jerks his head up, “What- What happened?”

“I was so, so hungry,” Moritz starts, and Ernst realizes he hasn’t seen him eat anything since they left home a week ago. “I heard him come down the ladder and I saw his mouth open to yell at you all and I could hear his heartbeat from the other side of the room and then I was just there. I was just there and, God, it tasted so good,” He says that as if he just realized what happened, and more tears roll down as cheeks as he continues, “What’s wrong with me, Ernst? I’m this… this monster now! I’d rather be dead than do that again.”

Ernst smothers him in a hug before he can continue, and Moritz latches on to him and sobs into his shoulder. Ernst mumbles a steady, “It’s going to be okay,” as he runs his fingers through Moritz’s hair until Moritz’s eyes dry and he slumps further into Ernst’s arms.

\----------

They make it another week before something happens. They all sit quietly in the dark, telling whispered stories and resting as they listen to the waves lapping against the side of the boat and wait. Moritz sneaks up to the higher decks to steal food for the other kids, and they all pointedly ignore the pangs of hunger Moritz starts to feel, knowing full well what happened last time. 

Martha is sitting across from Moritz as they use barrels as chairs and a crate as a table. She’s holding one of his hands in hers while her other hand is moving piles of herbs and crystals of unknown origin around on the crate.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Martha asks, already knowing the answer.

“Oh, absolutely. I can’t do that again,” Moritz says as his head subconsciously tilts to the blood stains still left on the floor below the ladder, “How do you know this is going to work? It didn’t last week.”

“I don’t.” Is all Martha says, before letting go of Moritz’s hand and using one of his claws to cut a slice in the center of her palm before he can pull away. A drop of blood drips onto the crate in the center of the circled items, and a red light suddenly overtakes the room. All of the kids cover their eyes as it blinds them, and as the light fades away, they all huddle around Moritz.

Moritz holds his hands out, and everyone lets out a disappointed sigh as they see the sharp claws remain. He bares his teeth and receives a solemn shake of the head from the group as they see his fangs.

\---------

It starts with Hanschen first. Everyone is woken up as he yelps in pain, and they all watch helplessly as he curls up in on himself, swearing and touching at his mouth and his head. 

Ernst is sat in front of him while Hanschen’s on his knees, and everyone stills as he suddenly stops moving. His head jerks up to look at Ernst, who reaches out a hand to cup his cheek as he stares in disbelief. Hanschen’s eyes are an unnerving yellow, with his pupils still unnaturally thin as they’re blown out. His mouth is open as he heaves for air, and they can see sharp teeth where his others once were. His ears are pointed, though, unlike Moritz, they are more animal, and they twitch as he settles. Similar to Moritz, however, he has sharp claws where his fingernails once were.

‘What,” Hanschen says through heaving breaths, “The hell.”

\----------

Hanschen and Moritz start to become what could be considered good friends after he turns. They bond over the weirdness. How their sleep cycles have changed, how hungry they are for all the wrong things, how difficult it is to be careful with claws and teeth. 

It’s not uncommon to see the two of them leaned against each other in the day, resting as best they can without sleeping. It’s also not uncommon to see Ernst staring at the both of them with a dopey smile.

\----------

Not long after Hanschen turns, something happens to Ernst, too. He heaves and writhes, but this time most everyone looks away, remembering the almost-nightmares they had after watching Hanschen. 

Hanschen and Moritz are each holding one of his hands, and they bear it as he squeezes their hands with unnatural force as he passes his pain on to them. Once his grip loosens, they look up, and his transformation is the most noticeable yet. He’s got white scales stretching across his cheeks and arms, and his entire lower body is changed, a long white and black tail with a flowing end in place of his legs. 

Ernst is obviously overwhelmed, and Hanschen starts peppering his face with small kisses as Moritz gently removes his hand and stands up, ripping the top off of the largest water storage barrel he can find on their deck after a minute of searching. He and Hanschen lift Ernst up gently and settle him into the water, and he seems to come alive as soon as he touches it. 

\---------

It happens to the rest of them within the week. 

Ilse starts growing feathers in her hair and her feet become clawlike, and the usual humming she does as they sit in the darkness becomes almost magnetic to the rest. Thea and Melitta share the same fate as their brother as their eyes yellow and their teeth sharpen. Anna’s ears come to a point and she suddenly starts either getting a lot luckier or all of her wishes are suddenly coming true. Otto starts getting almost seal-like features, with his hair becoming coarse and his teeth changing structure, while Georg, inexplicably, starts getting moth-like features. Finally, things start going bump in the night, and an unusually transparent but still very real Wendla arrives with a tearful greeting. 

Similar to Moritz and Hanschen, most of them are stronger than they used to be, and they intimidate their way into commandeering the ship. They lift Ernst’s barrel up to the top deck, and they finally get to spend their time together without being hushed. And, when the crew member that deliberately kicked the barrel as he walked past is found dead with two holes in his neck an hour later, nobody says anything. 

Since they aren’t being subdued in the dark anymore, relationships of every kind start to form. They all become close friends, exchanging hugs and inside jokes constantly in passing. Moritz and Hanschen are usually seen by Ernst’s barrel, their hands intertwined as Ernst leans down to kiss them both on their temple. When Wendla really concentrates, she can touch things like she used to, and she definitely seems most concentrated when Ilse’s face is between her hands and their lips are pressed together. 

Roughly six weeks (Moritz has been counting) after they left, they see land over the horizon. They all lean over the railings as they look out in awe.

“New York,” Moritz says with disbelief.

“New York,” the rest echo with similar feeling. 

\---------

Moritz runs his usual errands on his way home. There’s always stuff to do between work and his apartment. He stops by the butcher and picks up the order of fish and steak left in its place on the counter, and the man behind the counter gives him a familiar nod as he takes it. A few doors down is the eye doctors, and he runs in to get three new sets of colored contacts, green, blue, and brown. 

He makes it to the front door of his apartment complex and absentmindedly punches in the numbers on the keypad. The lobby is empty as per usual, though he passes very familiar faces as he makes his way up the stairs. Thea and Melitta are at the top of the steps, gossiping outside of Anna and Martha’s door before they make their way in. Georg gives him a nod as he unlocks the door to his own apartment.

Moritz pushes his door open and, like he does everyday, calls out an intentionally cheesy, “I’m home!” He makes his way through the hallway, which is lined with photos that span over a hundred years, and into the kitchen, where Ernst and Hanschen are sat at the table. He kisses them both before laying out the contents of his bag onto the table, sliding the fish over to Ernst and the steak to Hanschen, along with the brown and blue contacts respectively.

“God, you’re a lifesaver,” Hanschen says as he takes a bite of the steak. Uncooked, as per usual.

“Ironic, huh?” Moritz jokes as he pulls open the fridge and pulls out one of the bags of donated blood from the back.

“Guess so,” Ernst says with a laugh, though he’s seen this conversation go down many times, “Don’t forget I’m going over to Martha’s tomorrow.”

“I won’t. She renewing the spell?” Moritz asks, opening the bag of blood as he sits down at the table.

“Yup. Don’t want to turn back in the middle of the street like I did back in ‘46.”

“That was so funny, though,” Hanschen says, smiling at the memory, “If only I had a video camera back then.”

“We totally almost got burned for being witches or somethin’.”

“It would’ve gone viral, ‘Ritzie!” Hanschen exclaims as both Moritz and Ernst laugh.

“Surprised you know what that means,” Ernst says through a mouthful of fish.

“I’m old, not stupid.”

“You sure?” Moritz says, earning a weak glare from Hanschen before they all dissolve into laughter, settling into the comfortable routine they made years and years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per usual, thanks for reading!
> 
> Kudos/Comments are appreciated!
> 
> Send me stuff at vampmoritz on tumblr!


	6. Theater AU (Ernitz)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ernst knows everyone in the theater department, but this new cast member is unfamiliar to him.
> 
> He's pretty good though. And he's hot, but he won't tell you he thinks that.

Some of the casting didn’t surprise Ernst at all. The usual names he sees around the theatre department were all here. Hanschen Rilow got Ponyboy, Ilse Neumann got Cherry, and a couple of other almost-familiars got some of the other characters. He’s honestly quite happy for them, though he wish their director would give leads to literally anyone else. He got Sodapop, which was definitely better than what he was expecting, and he’s content with taking it.

However, there was one unfamiliar name on the list. Some kid named Moritz Stiefel, who got cast as Dallas. Definitely impressive. Dallas is a big role, and someone new to their theatre usually wouldn’t have gotten a role like that in their first show. Ernst already holds an unusual amount of respect for someone he’s never met.

He walked into his first rehearsal, and felt a feeling of relief wash over him as he stepped into the theatre. It felt like home, and doing "The Outsiders", a story he was already comfortable with, only amplified the feeling. He greeted Wendla, their usual stage manager, on his way to the sign-in sheet.

“So,” he starts after scribbling his initials, “Know anything about this Moritz kid?”

“Not really. Definitely an interesting choice for Dallas, though.”

“I like interesting. How so?” Ernst asks, handing the pen behind him to Hanschen as he turns to sit on the table.

“I introduced myself yesterday and he is super quiet. A little fidgety. I dunno, I guess Dallas just screams ‘cool and collected’, and this kid ain’t it.”

Ernst hums in response before pausing for a minute to think. “Guess we’ll see.”

\--------

Wendla was right. Moritz came in soon after Ernst sat down to flip through his script, and he mumbled his way through greetings before sitting down next to Ernst. He looked prepared enough, though. He had a carefully highlighted script and multiple pencils lined up for blocking, and his hair was already long enough to look like a true greaser.

Ernst holds out a hand, and Moritz stares at it for what feels like a minute before taking it carefully and shaking it. “I’m Ernst!” Ernst chirps.

“Moritz,” Moritz replies, voice already gaining confidence, as if the theatre was pumping him up just by being inside it.

Before they can continue their greetings, their director enters the room, and rehearsal begins.

They start at the beginning of the show, and they barely get through it today. Ernst doesn’t mind that, really, but there weren’t any Dallas scenes today, and he’s definitely curious.

\---------

Ernst gets more than he expected at their next rehearsal. They decide to start running the drive-in scene, and he sits in the audience next to Wendla, trying to act less interested than he really is. This is Dallas’ first big scene.

As soon as Moritz steps on stage, his entire demeanor shifts. He is suddenly full of more confidence than Ernst has ever seen in his life, and his presence is like a magnet. Ernst almost forgets about the other characters, and he practically completely misses Two-Bit’s entrance.

To be honest, it’s not just his acting that’s got Ernst interested. Moritz was already pretty, but this confidence makes him hot as hell, and from the look Wendla is giving him, she can already tell how Ernst feels.

Three more weeks.

\----------

By the next week of rehearsal, Ernst and Moritz are already fast friends. Ernst finds Moritz curled up in the library at lunch and drags him to their lunch table, and they spend most of their time forgetting their food in favor of running lines. They share snacks at rehearsal, and since Moritz can’t drive, Ernst usually ends up being his ride. 

Moritz, usually, is as quiet as he was when Ernst first met him. But, like that first rehearsal, he seems to come alive on stage. It’s definitely interesting, and, sometimes, it seems like he gets stuck in his character, being uncharacteristically chatty and confident whenever Ernst drives him home after a long rehearsal.

Ernst is sitting behind Wendla in the audience, enraptured by Moritz, when she turns around suddenly and waves her hand in front of his face.

“Holy shit, Ernie.”

“What?”

“You’ve known him for a week. Quit trying to undress him with your eyes.”

Ernst buries his face in one hand while lightly shoving Wendla with the other, choosing to let out a muffled scream instead of a reply.

“Am I wrong?” Is all Wendla says before turning back around, focusing on her script once again.

“No,” Ernst whispers to himself after she’s not looking. 

\---------

It’s the end of the second week, and while the show is going surprisingly well, Ernst is a little distracted. 

They’re having their first tech run and dress rehearsal, and Ernst almost faints when Moritz steps into the makeup room wearing a leather jacket. Moritz’s station is right next to his, Wendla’s fault for sure, and when he walks up to start putting on his makeup, Ernst is suddenly speechless. 

“Does it look okay?” Moritz asks him a few minutes later after putting his makeup on. 

On top of the jacket, he’s now got surprisingly well applied eyeliner, and Ernst sputters a bit before saying, “You look really h- great, ‘Ritzie!” 

Moritz’s usually fidgeting seems to settle once he hears Ernst’s approval, and he gives him a rare smile. “Thanks, Ernst.”

From the other end of the makeup counter, Hanschen and Ilse are staring in disbelief. 

“They are… so oblivious,” Ilse says.

“Five bucks they’ll get together by the cast party.” Is all Hanschen says.

“That soon? Moritz seems too shy for that. Five bucks it’ll be by the watch party in a few weeks, instead.”

“Deal.”

\---------

This is where Ernst dies. It’s the week of the show, and everyone is developing weird habits and acting unusual. That’s normal, but Moritz’s habit is killing him. 

Their dresser, Melitta, wears heels every day, and Moritz keeps stealing them and putting them on. Thigh-high, velvet, red heels. He’ll wear them around when they’re prepping for the show every day. At dinner, while putting on makeup, after he gets in costume. Ernst is getting so hot and bothered over this his brain is gonna cook before this week is over.

Ernst hears whooping and hollering from down the hallway in the makeup room. He goes over to investigate, and sees Moritz, obviously already in character, strutting around and showing off in his heels. The rest of the cast is standing in a circle around him, and they seem to be looking for someone.

“Ernst! There you are!” Hanschen calls out before grabbing him by the sleeve and tugging him into the middle of the circle, lightly shoving him into a nearby chair.

“What is going on?” Ernst asks, but he’s drowned out by the yelling of the rest of the room. 

Most of it is variations of “Do it, Moritz!” and he’s confused until Moritz stops his posing and stands right in front of him. Moritz lifts up a heel and puts it on the chair between Ernst’s legs and leans forward and Ernst is ready to die right there. He’s completely frozen until Moritz mumbles, “You okay, Ernie?” and he realizes he’s gotta play along or else everyone will know about this ridiculous crush.

He reaches out a hand towards Moritz’s face, jokingly getting into it, but Moritz grabs his hand and pushes it back towards him. “Nope,” Moritz says in a mock-scolding voice as he leans even closer, going down to a whisper, “Touching costs extra.”

“I’ll pay,” Ernst whispers in return, and Moritz’s veil of confidence seems to falter before they’re both snapped out of the moment by the screeching of the rest of the cast watching this go down. Moritz’s face goes steely again before he moves his foot down and straddles Ernst, sitting himself on his lap. 

The room is drowned out in screams, and Moritz laughs lightly before pushing himself up and vanishing down the hallway to finish getting ready. The cast quickly dissipates, interest moving on quickly, but Wendla stays behind.

“You okay?”

“Nope.”

\----------

Ernst is definitely settled by that Saturday, but even his oblivious self can feel the tension whenever Moritz is in the same room as him. They’re at the cast party at Ilse’s house, and while being surrounded by everyone else definitely makes it less noticeable, it’s pretty obvious to him. 

So Ernst spends most of his time avoiding him. If Moritz is swimming, he’s inside, snacking on whatever he can find and chatting with Wendla. When Moritz gets out of the pool for lunch, he sits as far away from him as possible. He definitely feels bad, but he can’t risk it. 

After lunch, some of the cast decides it’d be fun to start picking people up and throwing them in the pool. Ernst isn’t in the mood to be soggy for the next few hours, and he ends up further up the hill in Ilse’s backyard, half-heartedly hiding behind a tree. 

He hears footsteps and he scrambles to his feet and braces himself, ready to run away if they try to grab him to throw him in, but it’s only Moritz, and he can feel himself relax. 

“Shit, ‘Ritzie, I thought you were coming to thr-” Ernst starts before Moritz is kissing him, walking him backwards until he’s being pressed against the tree. Ernst instantly leans into it, and they get lost in the kiss until they’re forced to pull away for air. “‘Ritzie, what?”

As soon as Ernst speaks, Moritz pulls away, and just like that, his confidence is gone. “Oh, shit, Ernst, I’m so sorry. I thought… I don’t know what I thought.”

“No, no, no. You actually like me? I thought you were just joking the other day.”

“Just joking? Do you know how hard it was to keep myself from kissing you right there?”

Ernst takes a minute to process this, before taking a deep breath, “Kiss me again.”

“Are- Are you sure?”

 

“Just fuckin’ kiss me, Moritz.”

“Sorry!”

\----------

“Oh, Neumann!” Hanschen says in a sing-song voice, throwing open the door and drawing the attention of everyone inside.

“What, Rilow?”

“You owe me five bucks!”

“Oh, fuck you!”


	7. Hanschen's Car (Hernst)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The shit that happened over time in Hanschen Rilow's car.

Hanschen got his first car and his licence on the day he turned sixteen. He was not taking any chances when it came to finally getting some freedom, and he happily accepted the hand-me-down car from his mother. 

Being the oldest in their friend group, though not by much, he instantly became the taxi of the group, driving them home on some days, or to get food after school. Though it was uncharacteristically nice for him to offer so many rides, it didn’t mean he didn’t have any rules.

First rule: Hanschen picks the music. Unless he trusts that whoever’s riding shotgun has a solid music taste, like Moritz.

Second rule: No bitching if he has errands to run.

Third, and most important, rule: No spilling shit or dropping food in his car. No exceptions.

\--------

Everyone did a surprisingly good job of keeping to Hanschen’s rules. They were all as desperate for freedom as he was, and they knew better than to turn down a free ride. 

That was, until, the day Hanschen was driving them all to Dairy Queen after school, about a month after he got his car. The Dairy Queen run wasn’t unusual, in fact they did it about once a week, especially because it wasn’t too far from the school in the first place. 

Hanschen was zoned out in the driver’s seat. Ernst was curled up in the passenger’s seat, neck craned back to talk to Moritz and Ilse, who are sitting in the backseat, smushed up against the window because the third passenger in the back, Melchior, had spread out all of his stuff to organize it. The car goes into a peaceful silence before Melchior curses under his breath as he drops a few things.

“What was that?” Hanschen asks, snapping out of his focus as he hears the quiet thumping in the back.

“Just dropped some stuff. Pencil bag, an apple, a book, no biggie,” Melchior responds, listing off things as he picks them up.

“What was the second thing?” Hanschen says as Ernst begins snickering, knowing what Hanschen was getting at.

“An apple?”

 

“No food in the car, buddy!” Hanschen chirps in an unsettlingly cheerful voice as he pulls into the nearest parking lot.

“Hanschen, wha-,” Moritz starts, but is cut off by Hanschen turning around in his seat and giving Melchior a wide grin and saying “Walk.”

“Wait, wha-,” Melchior sputters, tilting his head in exaggerated confusion.

“Walk!”

“This is rid-”

“Walk!”

Melchior huffs and gathers his things, climbing out of the back and pulling his hand back to shut the door behind him. “Fine.”

“Slam the door and I’ll run you over,” Is all Hanschen can get out before Melchior makes a point to carefully shut the door and walks away. Moritz and Ilse are practically rolling in the backseat, and Ernst has tears rolling down his cheeks from laughing so hard. Hanschen’s smile turns from scarily fake to genuine when he realizes he made Ernst laugh this hard. “I just wanted him out of my car.”

“Fair.” The other three respond. 

\---------

Moritz gets his license the next month, and Hanschen is secretly relieved. He was sick of driving everyone around, and though he loves him, Moritz doesn’t have the backbone to refuse giving out rides. Hanschen is back to driving in peace, though he still drives Ernst to and from school when he needs it. Anything for Ernst, of course.

He’s at home, sprawled out on his bed and avoiding his homework when he gets a suspicious message from Ernst, and he instantly sits up to call him.

“Hey, Hansi!” Ernst says as he answers almost immediately, though he sounds muffled and distracted.

“Hey, Ernst. Are you at work right now?”

Ernst pauses until the silence becomes uncomfortable. “Yeah.”

“You sure?”

“What do you mean by tha-” Ernst says before getting cut off by the unmistakable cheer of a skee-ball machine.

Hanschen lets out a heavy sigh. “Are you at Chuck E’ Cheese again?”

Ernst lets out a nervous laugh. “Yeah.”

“I’ll be there in ten. Do not go anywhere.” Hanschen says before hanging up, already getting his shoes on.

Hanschen grumbles his way to the car, though on the inside, he isn’t really mad. Ernst gets stressed easily, he knows, and he also knows that playing mindless games makes him feel better. Though he maybe wishes Ernst would come to him when he feels down instead of going to some dumb, greasy restaurant full of creepy robots that truly scare the shit out of Hanschen. 

He gets there as fast as possible and steps inside, already upset at the unbearable shrieking of small children. 

“Hey there! You here to pick up someone?” The overly cheerful employee at the door says, though the smile doesn’t reach her eyes. Hanschen can tell. He’s worked retail.

“Yup,” He says, looking over her shoulder to scan the room until he sees Ernst’s noticeably tall frame by the far wall, way too engrossed in a game of Whack-A-Mole than he should be. ‘Found ‘im.”

The employee lets him pass and he goes over to Ernst, grabbing him by the shoulder and turning him around to face him. “Ernst, what the hell?”

“Hey, Hansi!” Ernst chirps, and, suddenly, Hanschen isn’t that mad anymore.

“Hey,” he replies, already cooled off, “Whatcha’ doing?”

“Check this out!” Ernst says, moving his arms up, and Hanschen notices he is holding a huge pile of tickets.

Hanschen wolf-whistles at the pile, “Nice. What are you trying to win?”

“Nerf guns.”

Hanschen pauses to think, “I’ll help you get more tickets.”

“Oh, thank you so much!” Ernst says, piling a handful of tokens on the nearest table and sliding them over to Hanschen.

They play in silence for a few minutes before Hanschen freezes. “Hey, how did you even get here? I personally dropped you off at work like, an hour ago.”

“Hey, Hanschen.” Moritz’s voice pipes up from behind him, and Hanschen whips around to face him.

“Moritz, what the hell?”

“Sorry, Hanschen,” Moritz says before motioning over to a very in-the-zone Ernst, “But how can you say no to that face?”

“...You’re right.”

\----------

The rest of their group is starting to notice that there may actually be some exceptions to Hanschen’s rules. Well, one exception. 

On the way to Dairy Queen the month after the Chuck E Cheese incident, Ernst drops the chips he was eating while sitting in the passenger seat. Now, to everyone who has eyes, it was very obvious that he deliberately dropped them, considering he stared at Hanschen as he dropped them, and held eye contact as soon as Hanschen turned to look.

The backseat shares some meaningful looks as Hanschen looks at Ernst, then at the chips on the floor, then back up at Ernst, before turning to the front again without a word.

\----------

Hanschen is just driving, and he doesn’t know where he’s going until he gets there. His parents were griping at him over some stupid shit again, and not to sound like an angsty teenager, but he was sick of it. 

He feels himself pull in somewhere and he’s vaguely aware he parks, but he doesn’t comprehend where he is until he’s snapped out of his stormy thoughts by a knock on his window. He rolls it down and Ernst is standing there, staring down at him with a look of concern, and he realizes he drove straight to Ernst’s place.

“Hansi?” Ernst asks, putting a hand in through the window to rest it on Hanschen’s shoulder, “What’s wrong?”

“Will you come with me?” Hanschen says instead of answering, and Ernst gets in the car without question. They drive in silence for a few minutes before Hanschen snaps suddenly, going off on a rant about every little thing that’s been bothering him for the past month. Ernst just listens and nods, and by the time they get to the park Hanschen was driving to, Hanschen’s face is warm and fat tears are rolling down his cheeks.

Ernst gets out of the car and walks around to the driver’s side, pulling open the door and leaning over so he’s partly in the car, close to Hanschen’s face. He smothers him in a hug, and tries to comfort him, but the tears just won’t stop, and the reckless part of Ernst’s brain makes an executive decision.

Ernst pulls back from the hug and leans in, pecking Hanschen on the lips before pulling back to kiss over his face where the tears were. Hanschen freezes as his shuddering breaths even out, and suddenly he’s moving, gently pushing Ernst back before shutting the driver’s side door and opening the door to the backseat instead, shoving Ernst onto the backseat and straddling him as he slams the door behind him.

Lots of other things happen in Hanschen’s car after that. And his next car he gets as soon as he graduates. And the one after that, too. And Ernst breaks every rule Hanschen sets, without any word of protest from Hanschen, who chooses to give him a lovestruck look each time instead.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Kudos/Comments are always appreciated and will almost always result in more writing!
> 
> Send me prompts and requests at vampmoritz on tumblr!


End file.
